


The Skies of Cardassia

by Blu3fairy



Series: The Seas of Earth [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Anal Sex, Cardassian war orphans, Established Relationship, Family, First Time, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-02-10 04:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blu3fairy/pseuds/Blu3fairy
Summary: Jake Sisko visits Cardassia Prime a decade after the dominion war to write an article. He takes a side trip to visit his old friend Dr. Bashir and to meet his family.





	1. Chapter 1

—— —

 

Jake

Thank you for letting me take a look at the rough copy of your article. I appreciate that you wanted my thoughts on it, however I think I may be too close to the effects of Cardassian political matters to give you a helpful perspective. I will say that your outsider views on the Cardassian recovery efforts and the remarkable ability of the government here to get in it’s own way have their own valuable insight. I will neglect to have Elim take a look at the article, though. I think you can do without his feedback. I regret that I don’t have more time to write, but I wanted to let you know that I had read the article and that I think it is well done. I also wanted to tell you again what a delight it was to have you here for what little time you had available. You are welcome to stay with us again any time. Raj specifically asks after you

Yours,

Julian

Jake reads over the brief note and smiles. He closes the message and opens a directory labeled ‘C. Prime’ with the intent of going over his latest article draft. Instead, he finds himself reading over his personal notes.

————

Jake S. - Personal journal - Cardassia Prime day 17, Karaen day 3

While I have plenty of material for my article, I do regret not taking more time with my personal journal during my visit here. I would like to have captured more of my initial thoughts and impressions. Although the government here has been less than accommodating, I have seen enough to fill several articles. The capital is mired in corruption and misallocated funds, treaty violations and sanctions. The story is much different out here in this rural community. While I won’t be writing an article about it, there is certainly an alternative narrative here for the changes this planet has undergone since the Dominion war.

After leaving the capital, I had to take a transport for several hours to get to Karaen and, from there, it was another 3k walk in sweltering dry heat to reach Julian’s little plot of land. I took the walk slowly. I was sweating profusely and I didn’t want to push it. As I got close to my destination, I was surprised to hear my name called by a woman’s voice. A Cardassian woman walked out and greeted me, followed by a man who I presumed to be her husband and several small children. I found out that they are friends of Julian’s and knew that I was coming. It was nice (although a bit disconcerting) to be greeted in such a friendly way by a Cardassian stranger. The children were extremely curious about me and I felt self conscious standing there sweating in my travel clothes while they circled me and stared. I have since met them all again in a more comfortable social setting and the kids are really quite sweet.

A little ways further down the road I found Julian who had walked out part way to meet me and make sure that I found his family’s little house. While I recognized DS9’s former CMO, he certainly has changed. Julian is now in his mid 40’s, with a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard. His hair is worn long and his skin is dark from working outside in the sun. There is also a different energy about him. He’s calmer than the man that I remember. I remember feeling like, even though I was a teenager back on the station, he almost seemed like a contemporary in temperament. There’s a mature and settled energy about him now.

Garak also looks a bit different. He also wears his hair long, although he keeps it tied at the nape of his neck. He doesn’t look as if he has aged, although he is slimmer than he once was and fit from manual labor.

I didn’t actually see Garak or the kids when I first arrived at the house. They were apparently at another home nearby participating in an organized event for the neighborhood children. It gave me a chance to catch up a bit with Julian. I told him about my recent travels and was pleased to learn that he had been following my career somewhat and had read several of my articles. I told him about Larel and my home on Bajor (as little time as I spend there). He showed me around their little house (a bit dirty and cluttered, but cozy) and garden.

As curious as I was to get his perspective on recent Cardassian political and social developments, I first had to ask him about his personal experience and how he ended up deciding to stay here. He told me about his visit two years ago when he decided to finally see Cardassia for himself and to catch up with Garak.

———-

Julian had found it odd to sit across a table from his friend again after so many years. Garak looked much like Julian remembered him, but his mannerisms had changed. The sharp intellect and playful teasing were still there, but the polished front and sarcasm were softened. He seemed much more genuine and comfortable. Even Garak’s manner of dress was different. His clothing was light and practical, soft cloth that draped loosely and blocked the sun from most of his skin, except for the neck line where it was trimmed low around the ridges.

Sitting at the informal café near the transport station where Garak had come to meet him, they sipped their cool drinks and fell back easily in to conversation. They moved quickly from catching up on personal events to touching on the political situation and then launching in to an in depth debate about the changes in literature and culture over the last decade. Garak argued that human production has stagnated for centuries, Julian criticized the simplicity of jingoistic Cardassian literature following the Dominion withdrawal. Garak lamented that they had not been in more contact because Julian clearly had no guidance and had only come across popular trash.

The first thing Julian had said when he saw Garak, as they placed their hands on each other’s shoulders in warm greeting, was “I’ve missed you.” Throughout their conversation, Julian had to bite his tongue repeatedly to keep from saying it again.

Julian walked with Garak back to his cottage.

“The area behind the house reaching back to that wall,” Garak applied the term loosely as he pointed to a line of rubble, “is my farm land, including the orchard over there. The food is distributed within the community and is how I earn my place here.”

“You farm all of that yourself?”

“For the most part. I have some neighbors that work with me, both to share in the harvest and to learn more about working their own land. This area in front of the house is my own garden area.”

“What’s the difference?”

“It’s smaller scale produce that’s impractical for the farm. The plants are more diverse. The food produced here mostly goes to my own kitchen and to my neighbors. I also bring a lot of it to the orphanage in Larent, which is a few hours north of here.”

“Orphanage?”

“There’s a rotating program of mentor volunteers. When I visit, I bring fresh food and teach the children about farming techniques and environmental issues, particularly the soil degradation we’ve fought since the end of the war. Some of the children even come here for day trips.”

“You bring children here? I suppose it makes for cheap labor,” Julian teased.

“It’s not often. Transportation for large groups of children is an issue. There is one child in particular, though. A boy who lost his parents in the war. He is fascinated by plants and, if I may say so, very much looks forward to my visits. I’ve arranged to bring him out here on many occasions for individual lessons. He even keeps his own container plants on the orphanage grounds. He’s impressively responsible for his age.” Garak spoke with a fond smile and Julian grinned back in surprise.

“Do you mean to tell me that Elim Garak of the Obsidian Order, infamous spy and code breaker, now spends his time gardening and working with orphaned children?”

Garak did not respond with the expected amusement.

“I’ve always done what I thought was best for my people. Right now, I’m doing what’s needed most for my community.”

Julian smiled broadly and shook his head in bemusement.

Garak surveyed his garden with obvious pride.

“Tell me about what you’re growing here.,” Julian prompted. “Some of these look similar to Terran vegetables, but I don’t recognize most of them. What is this?” Julian led Garak to a lush vine plant with large flat leaves weaving its way up a trellace, “It’s beautiful.”

“Canopy beans. They grow well this time of year, although their season will be ending soon. In the places where the leaves group together, you can come up underneath them,” Garak crouched in front of the plant and demonstrated, “and harvest the beans that are large enough.” He pulled a couple of pods from the plant and offered one to Julian, biting the other in half himself. Julian found it similar to a Terran garden bean, although it was sweeter. Garak stood and brushed a hand along the plant. “When the leaves in a section start to yellow like this, you might as well pick everything in that area regardless of size as production is about to stop. It’s the cooling weather.”

Garak had turned back to Julian. His voice trailed off as he noticed a strange look on Julian’s face. Julian was sitting on his haunches watching him intently. Something about his expression had darkened and his lips were parted slightly as if he had just realized something.

“You aren’t listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

“Not really,” Julian stood abruptly and took a few steps toward Garak.

Garak stepped back, startled. Julian closed the gap without breaking eye contact. He placed his hands along the side of Garak’s face and tentatively stroked his thumb along a ridge, watching Garak’s face. Garak’s breath caught and his eyes closed. With that permission, Julian leaned in and pressed his lips gently to Garak’s. Garak parted his lips, encouraging the kiss to deepen. Garak felt a hand snake around his waist and settle in the small of his back. As Julian pressed in to him, he felt an answering arousal against his own.

Garak groaned and grabbed Julian by the shoulders, breaking the kiss and shoving Julian back a few steps until his back hit the cottage wall. Garak’s mouth found Julian’s again, kissing him with more urgency. Garak’s hands ran over Julian’s chest and found their way down to his waistband. Garak knelt in the dirt in front of him and exposed Julian’s cock to the warm evening air. Garak’s mouth closed around it and he was rewarded with a moan. He continued to work his lips around the shaft. Julian’s hands grasped at Garak’s hair.

“Oh,” Julian groaned and bucked his hips.

Garak placed his hands on Julian’s hip bones and pressed him firmly against the wall. Leaving one hand in place, Garak used the other to caress Julian’s cock, circling it and pressing the foreskin toward the base, taking the shaft deep in to his mouth with firm suction and then pulling his head away to tease his tongue along the underside of the head. Julian’s hips strained against Garak’s hand.

Finally, Garak released him and Julian’s free hips pumped his cock in to Garak’s warm mouth. His whole body body tensed with his release and then leaned back against the wall to support his shaking legs. Garak, looking slightly dazed, began to rise and Julian helped to pull him up, grasping him by an elbow.

Julian kissed him tenderly, breaking contact after a few moments to whisper, “So, you want to reach up under the canopy leaves to find the ripe ones?”

“I think you’ve learned quite enough about gardening for today, Doctor. Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

Garak led him inside inside and within a few minutes Julian was standing in the kitchen area watching Garak scrub dirt off of root vegetables in a bowl of water.

Julian came up behind Garak and put his arms around his waist, “I really have missed you, you know.”

Garak didn’t respond.

“Is this okay?” Julian asked, with a slight squeeze to Garak’s waist. When he got no reply, Julian dropped his arms and took a step back.

Garak turned and opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. He stepped back from the counter, absently drying his hands on a rag tucked in to his waistband.

Julian moved over to an unused bit of counter and hopped up to sit on it. Garak stared at him.

“Is _this_ okay?” Julian indicated his perch on the counter with a soft laugh.

“What is this?” Garak finally responds.

“What do you want this to be?”

“I’m not prepared to say.”

“I wish you would.”

Garak resumed his dinner preparation, keeping his eyes on his work. His neck craned stiffly to follow the movement of his hands and his eyes were wide. These mannerisms were familiar. It took Julian back ten years and made his stomach knot with affection for his old friend.

“I want you to stay with me,” Garak finally said, “I want you to come to bed with me tonight. I don’t want you to get back on a transport in a couple of days.” Garak was still, mouth parted slightly as if surprised by his own words.

“is that an invitation?”

“It is.”

“Well, then I accept. I’ll go in to town tomorrow and contact Starfleet to ask for a deferral on my next assignment and put in the request with the ministry here to stay longer term. We’ll see which of them drag me off of this planet first.”

Garak finally looked up at Julian and smiled. They kissed. They shared dinner and a glass of kanar afterwards, reminiscing about their former life.

Their first night together was unhurried. They took time to undress and explore each other. When the time came, Garak slowly and methodically prepared Julian, lubricating and stretching with his fingers and easing inside. Once he was fully sheathed, Garak stopped and pressed his lips to Julian’s neck, breathing “I have wanted you for so long” and Julian was lost.

Afterwards they lay in each other’s arms nearly dozing. Garak broke a long companionable silence.

“There is something I have to tell you. Something I haven’t said which you deserve to know before you make any decisions. If you want to leave in the morning, I’ll understand.”

Julian propped himself up on his elbow, more curious than concerned. “What is it?”

“I only have a composting toilet.” Julian laughed and tucked himself back in to Garak’s side.

The next evening passed in much the same way. As the two men drifted off to sleep, Julian slid his leg over Garak’s. Garak woke in the night, disoriented by the weight on his body for a moment. Then he smiled remembering that Julian was there. Garak felt the urge to shift his position, but was reluctant to disturb his companion. The thought _I can’t move_ flitted across his mind and then echoed, growing louder and joined by other unwelcome words and images. He lost the sense of the room’s space and felt it closing in on him in the dark. He was in a closet, then buried in a collapsed tunnel, air running out. He felt a terrible weight on his chest and took a pained gasping breath, choking on saliva pulled in to his lungs in the panic. He thrashed his legs trying to free them and the blanket tangled around his calves trapping him further.

Julian stirred beside him with a grunt of confusion to see Garak stumbling out of bed to crouch against the wall. 

Garak regained his orientation and, for a moment, he was relieved to find himself safe at home. Then, he saw Julian moving toward him, concern and confusion evident on his face even in the low light. The sight made Garak nauseous with shame and set his heart to racing as he spiraled in to another wave of panic.

Julian soon recognized the attack for what it was and held Garak through it, sitting on the floor beside him and shushing him through whispers of ‘sorry’ and ‘ruined everything’.

From then on they slept side by side, legs pressed together, fingers sometimes entwined, but Julian kept to his side of the bed.

——

Of course, Julian edits this heavily while telling Jake how quickly he knew that he would remain on Cardassia.

“I decided to stay for an extended period within hours. Less than a month later, we were discussing Ragel and Garak tells me that he wants to adopt him, but that it’s difficult to adopt as a single parent. I proposed marriage immediately and the next day I submitted my resignation to Starfleet. “

“Wow,” Jake smiles, “you didn’t waste any time.”

“When you’ve known someone for nearly two decades a long courtship doesn’t feel necessary.”

“Makes sense. So, your marriage is recognized here?”

“Not exactly. It’s not officially recognized by the government. Interspecies marriages don’t have a lot of protection here and ‘non-procreative enjoinment’ itself is a bit of a gray area legally. However, since the marriage is recognized by the Federation, our treaty terms give me some limited rights here and helped a lot with the adoption process. Frankly the government doesn’t much care what happens to an orphan. Resources are very limited for these children and there was no obstacle to taking them home to care for them. The bureaucracy and paperwork were time consuming to make everything official, though. In fact, we’re still verifying the loose ends with Zizi.”

“You said you traveled to Federation space to be married?”

“Yes,” Julian smiles softly at the memory. “We wanted to be sure that there was no question of legitimacy on the Federation side. In case….” he trailed off and the smile faded.

Jake nodded his understanding. “What was the wedding like?”

“Oh, there was nothing ceremonial about it. We had contacted the station commander. He was clearly a bit taken aback, but he filed the certificate and it was witnessed by one of his staff members. That was pretty much it. It was not a small thing for Garak to leave our home. After his exile, he prefers to keep his feet firmly on Cardassia. We married and then turned around and headed home as soon as we could.”

“It’s too bad my father wasn’t around to marry you.” Jake grins and Julian laughs at the image.

“That…would have been something.”

“I have to ask, was there ever anything going on between you two back then, back on the station? I remember seeing you together a lot, but it never occurred to me that you might be…involved.”

“Oh, no. There was certainly something there between us back then, but it wouldn’t have worked. Honestly, it probably wouldn’t have occurred to me that it was a real option at the time and I’m glad. It would have been a disaster and we never would have ended up together now that it’s right. We’re very different people now.”

———

Julian leaves out that some things are the same. His husband lies. Julian did not notice at first. The behavior seemed incongruous with the changes in the man he had fallen in love with, but the lying was still the same. Most of the time, when Julian catches him, the deceptions seem frustratingly pointless. Garak does not hide his amusement at Julian’s exasperation and Julian ends up smiling despite himself. There are other lies, more significant lies, that concern him more and they used to have terrible confrontations over them. Julian has mostly given up on this fight. The doctor in him knows that the blame lies with Garak’s father, with Tain’s fist and a closet in Garak’s childhood home. He knows that he can no more yell or reason the lying out of Garak than he could reason away the screaming fits that Zizi has. The husband in Julian sometimes feels helpless and he still finds himself biting his tongue and clenching his fist, wondering why the childhood wounds of one man get to define their lives while his own have to be shoved away in a storage box with his old teddy bear.

What really bothers him is when he sees the behavior in Zizi. Her lies seemed innocent enough at the beginning, blaming her brother for a trampled plant or claiming ignorance about missing chocolates (a frequent complaint of Garak’s, who stashes them in increasing more obscure places as the children get older), but Julian catches her less and less and he knows that only means she is getting better. He also knows that his husband’s reprimands are more coaching than dissuasion. Garak’s scolding any time she is caught lying center around her mistakes and Julian overhears him saying things like, ‘Of course I know that’s not true, Zizi. You included too much detail’. Julian still bothers to fight this fight. Zizi has enough problems without turning in to a chronic liar and the other parents are already hesitant to let her interact with their children. Although watching how the other children avoid her and how their parents frown when they see her show up for community activities, Julian must admit that some distance from the truth may benefit her.

He also might admit that there are benefits for him when his husband lies, or at least when he allows Julian to catch him. Julian will play in to it, refusing to drop the irritated demeanor long after he wants to smile, his exasperation becoming as insincere as his husband’s contrition. These scenarios lead to soft apologies whispered between kisses along his neck, each man smiling when the other can’t see. These become tender caresses, along his back, up his thighs, dipping below the waistband of his pants. If they are blessed with solitude and children peacefully sleeping in the other room, these apologies often end with Garak kneeling before Julian’s seated form, mouth and tongue quickly bringing him off with practiced skill.

\-----

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake continues to get to know Julian's family

\----

Jake S. - Personal journal - Cardassia Prime day 19, Karaen day 4

Cardassian is spoken almost exclusively in the household here. There is only one English word I’ve heard the kids speak. Julian is “Daddy”. They address Garak by a Cardassian term which translates as “ _father_ ”. I rely on my translator to communicate with the children and Garak. Julian reverts to English when he is talking to me one on one, but there is an odd new dimension to his British accent now which is probably completely unique to him

I asked Julian how accepting other Cardassians are of his relationship and the adopted children. Julian told me that he often doesn’t see other humans for a half year at a time (he keeps telling me how happy he is to have me here. I think he does miss the company of other humans). However, the local community is used to him and he doesn’t think anything of his species when he’s here at home. I can see this with his neighbors in the community. He has friends here (like Deles and Katren up the road, who we had dinner with last night) that seem to adore him and I have to admit that they are not like any Cardassians I’ve ever met. This whole experience has challenged a lot of my assumptions. Anyway, Julian explained that they do get looks when they go in to the city, but that it may be as much about the children as it is about his appearance. Ziyal gets a lot of glares because of her behavior. Julian tells me that Cardassian children are generally very strictly disciplined. I did not miss a dark look he gave toward the door to the garden where Garak was working. Obviously he has heard some first hand accounts of what that discipline looks like

Honestly, Zizi and Raj are not very strictly disciplined even by human standards. They let those kids get away with a lot.

The girl is especially difficult. She cries easily, shrieks when she doesn’t get her way, and one of the parents is always upon her instantly, petting her hair, rocking her and singing little songs. I had commented to Julian (diplomatically) on how indulgent he and Garak seem to be. I think I used the word “patient”.He said if he has to spend everymoment of every day convincing them they are loved he will. These children have gone through the trauma of losing both parents and then being thrown in to a system where they have no status. They lived in to a facility with minimal staffing and other traumatized children which only led to more suffering. I felt bad for bringing up the subject, but he didn’t seem to take offense.

What I think Julian doesn’t realize is how much this behavior of constant reassurance takes places between him and Garak. How, yes they steal kisses and quote stupid poetry at each other when they think no one is paying attention, but they also constantly touch without seeming to notice it. I see their legs pressed together under the table at dinner or their hands resting on each other’s arms whenever they stand close. They are hyper aware of each other, each listening for the other when they are in separate rooms. When one of them makes a regular trip to town, the other is vigilant for their return, aware to the minute when they should see a figure returning up the path. Although off planet communications are still difficult out here, local communication works well and they will update each other if they will be even a little bit off schedule. Perhaps they have their own past trauma that requires this level of assurance or perhaps it’s just having been separated for so many years. I know I should find all of this unhealthy, but to be honest it just makes me miss Larel even more. It makes me wish I appreciated being close to her more, being able to reach out and touch her.

Something about being here with this family makes me miss her more than just the few weeks apart normally would. I find myself thinking a lot about her. Not just how much I want to see her, but about the future of our relationship.

—--

Jake had been making a journal entry in Julian’s living area during a quiet interlude while the children were washing up after dinner one night. Zizi had started to melt down. Jake heard her screaming and sobbing something barely coherent about her night clothes being itchy. Julian had her get her brush and sat her down on the floor in front of a chair near Jake. Julian brushed her hair for several minutes, quickly calming her. Then, she declared that it was her turn and she climbed up in to the chair while Julian took her place on the floor. She started yanking at his hair, saying she was “braiding”. Julian just smiled, doing his best to hold still for her and it made Jake laugh.

Julian reached up to examine Zizi’s work and Jake noticed a glint of gold at his wrist.

———

Julian wears the bracelet cuff around his left wrist, usually hidden beneath the sleeves of the light tunics he wears to protect him from the sun. The bracelet is a traditional Cardassian design, thin and flat, but wide. It hinges in to two pieces and clasps with a pin connected by a small delicate chain. There are shallow abstract designs imprinted in it.When Garak first gave it to him and placed it on his arm, Julian felt that it emphasized the delicacy of his wrist. For a moment, he didn’t like the look of it. Then, Garak placed two fingers on Julian’s palm and ran them lightly toward the bracelet. Julian shivered and looked at Garak, taken aback by something possessive in his eyes as he admires the jewelry against Julian’s skin. Julian has never taken it off.

————

Jake didn’t mean to grouse about the heat yet again, but the complaint still slips out.

Julian’s smile is sympathetic, “You get used to it. I was a little worried for the first few weeks, especially when I started to try to help out on the farm. I drank so much water and then felt guilty about it, since it was still a fairly limited resource at the time. But this is perfect for Cardassians. There’s no such thing as environmental control on this planet…anywhere. I remember how oppressive it felt at first, but I the fact that it’s completely unrelenting helps you to adapt.”

“Great.” Jake is not reassured.

They are seated in the living area, keeping to the shade during the hottest part of the day while Garak works outside. They had been discussing crop rotation and then lesson plans for the children.

“So you exclusively school the children at home?”

“Yes, we try to coordinate with nearby families. There are programs for rural families provided by the government which aren’t bad with some creative editing. Nothing like you would get in a federation school, mind you. The children probably do better than they would in a regular Cardassian school, though, especially with Zi’s behavioral problems. That sort of thing isn’t tolerated. Transportation to one of those schools would be challenging too, but mostly we just don’t find the content acceptable. There is a lot of….patriotic material. The things they teach these kids…” Garak walks in to the room and starts digging for something in a cabinet, “I mean, my husband went to government run school and you should hear the nonsense that he spouts even now.”

Garak pauses and straightens up, fixing Julian with a look.

“Have you seen the ph gauge? Deles wants to take a run at getting it working again.”

“I don’t even know what it looks like, sorry.”

Garak leaves the room, Julian smirking at his back.

“You’ve been hearing so much about our lives here, Jake. I know you have that journalistic curiosity, but let’s talk about you. What about this woman you’ve been seeing?”

“Larel?” Jake’s face brightened in to one of his wide sunny grins, “she’s pretty amazing, actually.”

——

Later that evening, Jake indulges in a glass of Kanar with Julian after dinner. After just a few days, Jake is starting to acquire the taste. He can understand why it’s a nearly nightly habit for Julian now. The children are supposed to be cleaning up for bed, but Ragel stomps in to the room complaining about something his sister has done.

“She’s evil!” He cries dramatically and Jake has to struggle not to laugh.

Julian leans forward, taking Ragel’s hands in his own and looking earnest, “Well, she _is_ evil…she takes after your father. “

Ragel grins, “and I take after you?”

“Of course. Look how devastatingly handsome you are.”

The boy giggles, Julian pulls him in close and plants a kiss on the boy’s forehead. “Your father will make you an overly rich breakfast in the morning. Go get some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep yet,” Ragel protests, “we didn’t say the goodnight words.”

———

The ritual dates back almost a year. Julian had been tucking the children in and had fondly said to Ragel, “Do you know how much I love you two?”

Ragel, not quite grasping the rhetorical yet, asks, ”How much?”

“Oh,” Julian gives it some thought, “enough to fill all of the oceans on Earth and have a little spill out.”

“aaand…How much does Father love us?” Ragel asks, his tone turning playful.

“Hmm…enough to fill all the skies of Cardassia and still have a little leak out in to space.” Ziyal giggled at this.

Ragel paused and then smiled mischievously, “How much do you love father?” Both children looked at Julian expectantly.

“We love each other sooo much, that all the gravitational pull combined from all of the planets in between Cardassia and Earth couldn’t tear us apart.” Julian could practically hear Garak’s eyes rolling from the other room.

“Okay, _bed_ time.”

Julian almost made it out the door before Ragel pipped up, “Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Are the oceans on Earth very big?” 

Julian laughed at that. 

“Yes, Raj, they are very _very_ big”

Julian shuts the door behind him. He finds Garak clearing plates from their dinner table and embraces him from behind.

“All of the gravity from all of the planets in between?”

“Mmm” Julian confirmed.

“Yet, somehow, I suspect that the pull of the dirty dishes is enough to part us.”

“It Is A Powerful Force” Julian intoned gravely, stepping back and giving Garak a playful push toward the sink.

Julian forgot about the exchange with the children, until Ragel prompted him the next evening “Daddy, how much is it that you love us?” and, with Ziyal’s giggling spurring them on, the exchange was repeated.

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably add tag warnings for cheese and lack of plot


	3. Chapter 3

—

Julian is laying out pieces on the table in front of Jake for some elaborate game. There are interlocking panels that form a board and many wooden cubes of varying shades along with circular pieces and separate boards that appear to track various symbols which Jake does not understand. Julian had given a cursory explanation of the game and assured Jake that he would pick up the rules quickly once they started in to it. Jake is becoming skeptical

When Garak walks in to the room and eyes the table, he wordlessly changes course to the kitchen area, pulling out a glass and a bottle of kanar and returning to the seating area to settle in with a book, pointedly ignoring his husband and their guest.

Jake raises his eyebrows at Julian, “I take it this will be a two player game.”

Julian smiles and nods.

“Holodecks are out of the question for civilian use given the ongoing power and material scarcity. So, Garak started teaching me some of the more elaborate Cardassian strategy games. Our neighbors had other game options and were happy to show me once they heard I had an interest. Although the concepts are more abstract, the games are basically fantasy and strategy, which embodies a lot of what I used to enjoy about those holodeck programs. Of course, my dear husband thinks that fantasy is silly and doesn’t understand how strategic playing can keep the mind sharp.”

“Are you saying I’m not sharp?” Garak asks with feigned wide eyed offense.

“Oh…of course you are, for your age.”

When teased like this, Garak smiles solicitously with a bit of poison behind it and Jake sees a glimpse of the Garak he remembers from DS9.

Garak returns his attention to his book and Julian continues, “As you may know, I somethings get…enthusiastic about things.” A snort from Garak. “And Elim kind of burned out on playing with me, so I organized a group of neighbors to meet up regularly and share games. It’s become quite competitive.”

“But you’re…you know,” Jake gestures vaguely at Julian who understands the allusion to his enhancements. “Do you let them win sometimes?” Another snort from Garak.

“There is something uniquely Cardassian about the strategy of these games. Kotra is one thing. It takes a bit for a non-Cardassian to get their head around the mechanics, but once they do it is a fairly simple strategy game.These others, however, are far more intricate. It’s like mastering Go versus Checkers. I’m at a bit of a disadvantage, not having grown up playing these games. They are apparently what widely passes for leisure in Cardassian schools.”

“You must miss the holodeck, though.”

“I miss the dress up and the fantasy, but I’m a middle aged man now, it would look a little ridiculous,” Garak laughs quietly at the implication that Julian did not always look ridiculous playing dressup, “And I honestly think if I ever left Cardassia I would miss these games far more. They’re addictive and I’ve really bonded with the friends that I play with.”

“Do you miss Starfleet?”

“This is my adventure now. Raj and Zizi andgeopolitical history lessons and crop rotations. I loved the idea of Starfleet when I joined up, but it turns out it was just a means to finding my home. I belong here and I honestly can’t bear the thought of leaving for any length of time. My children, my husband and my canopy beans need me. “

“What about medicine?”

Julian smiles indulgently, recognizing that Jake is in journalist mode.

“My passion was always for research and I still do some of that. I have a small office in a back room that was basically Garak’s storage closet before I moved here. It’s sometimes hard to get the materials I need and, as I’m sure you’re noticed, communications off planet are a bit slow and spotty out here. I still get some work done and I’ve managed to make it in to a few publications in the last couple of years. But, primarily, I am now a mediocre farmer.”

“And a good father.” Jake interjects. Julian inclines his head in thanks. “You’ve really found your home there. I can see it.” Both humans miss the fond look that Elim, glancing up from his book, gives his husband.

“Okay, I’m mostly set up. So, each of these sections represents a provence and each provence specializes in a particular resource, represented by these cubes. The resources are eventually developed in to the military units that are used to capture and hold additional territories…”

Garak stands up with his book, taking his leave to read in bed as he often has while Jake and Julian catch up. . He gives Jake a nod and stops briefly in front of Julian, who reaches up and slots two of his fingers in to the jaw ridge at the side of Garak’s face.

Jake has seen this gesture before. It’s something Julian does when he and Garak steal a quick kiss thinking they aren’t being observed. The abbreviated touch is a short hand. A kiss without kissing.

Jake sighs and tries to focus on the game pieces in front of him.

——

Julian did not take to farming from the beginning. When it became clear that his time on Cardassia was shifting from a visit to a more long term arrangement, he was eager to start pitching in and feeling useful.

Garak had been neglecting his property to spend time with his new lover and Julian hoped to make it up to him. Garak had explained that the trees comprising the small orchard needed to be pruned. It was a large project and it was nearing the end of the season when the work had to take place.

Julian followed Garak, awkwardly lugging the tools they had selected from the garden shed. The day was cooler than usual and Julian was looking forward to doing some physical work, knowing that his stamina would enable him to get a lot done. As Garak started demonstrating the pruning techniques and explaining the need for care and strategy in thinning the branches, Julian realized that the task was going to be slower and more complex than he had imagined.

Garak seemed to select branches and locations to cut on instinct. While he explained the reasoning, that the sunlight the branches received during the next season would determine the abundance of fruit the following year and that the treeswaste energy on branches and leaves that weren’t current bearing fruit, Julian had trouble applying the reasoning to the choices that Garak made. He barraged Garak with question after question and asked for verification before he made any cuts.

Garak’s patience wore thin as the morning slipped away from them.

“My Dear, you are a doctor. A tree is a living thing. It needs nutrition and care, it gets sick, it needs it’s health maintained just like any other life form. Can you not apply some of your enhanced genius and instinct to this task?”

Julian had worked in sullen silence for the rest of the morning. When they broke for lunch, Julian was still quiet and Garak’s mild feelings of annoyance turned to anxiety. Julian was picking at his plate with a fork and Garak reached out, stilling Julian’s hand by covering it with his own. Their eyes met and Garak inclined his head in a quiet question.

“Do you think I have a place here?” Julian had finally asked.

When Garak didn’t answer right away, Julian extracted his hand and pushed back from the table, eyes lowered to his plate.

“I don’t fit here…in your life. Do I? Is this just a visit, Elim?” Garak picked at some crumbs on the table, “Elim, I’m going to need you to say something here.”

“I…had assumed this was temporary,” Garak replied after a while.

Julian tried to take a calming breath, but his exhale was shaky.

“I see. And have I overstayed my welcome?”

Garak startled Julian by standing quickly, grasping his chin and tilting his face up. He grabbed both of Julian’s hands and met his eyes.

When he was sure he had Julian’s full attention, he responded, “Never. Don’t think that for a moment. Julian, you are always welcome here, no matter how long you chose to stay or what you do while you’re here.”

He saw the telltale signs, wet eyes and a trembling twist to the lips, that Julian was fighting to keep his feelings in check.

“Julian, I had assumed you would want to go at some point. I can’t imagine that you would want to stay and waste your brilliance on a sick dusty planet with a middle aged man. But, no, I don’t want you to leave…never.”

Julian stayed. He worried less about contributing right away and took his time to get to know the land and Garak’s routines.

One hot day, after taking a few hours to explore the nearby small town, Julian returned to the property to find Garak back in the orchard. He stood quietly watching Garak work. He watched his hands deftly and ruthlessly pluck fruit from clusters, leaving the largest which he then covered with a small sock of stretchy fabric that puffed out a chalky substance as it was manipulated. Julian was lost, as he often found himself, in the skillful way Garak worked. Although Garak gave no indication, Julian knew that he was aware of his presence. Julian finally approached, wrapping his arms loosely around Garak from behind. Garak paused briefly and gave Julian an affectionate nuzzle, raising a tacky hand to cup Julian’s stubbled cheek, before attempting to continue his work.

Julian grew more insistent, pressing up against Garak’s back and running his lips along a neck ridge. Garak sighed softly, but felt himself responding. He finally gave up, turning to wrap Julian in his arms and was rewarded by a bright smile. Julian pulled back, taking Garak’s hands in his own and tugging him to a softer patch of grass.

They lay on the ground, lips and bodies pressed together, hands entwining and exploring, quiet sighs hanging in the close air. In time they worked at the waistbands of their pants, lowering them and raising tunics so that their bellies brushed together softly. They reached for each other, using gentle strokes and pressure, pressing their lengths together. Moisture from the ground soaked through Julian's shirt and as he shifted positions the fabric felt cool in the sweltering heat.

They lay next to each other afterwards, Garak’s arm holding Julian close. Julian made a thoughtful noise and Garak gave him a questioning look.

“I was just thinking about this place. What a future here could look like.”

“Quite bleak, from my perspective.”

“Oh?”

Garak looked pointedly at the fruit tree. “My dear, with you here we will starve.”

 

\--


	4. Chapter 4

————

 

Julian and Jake walk side by side on the long dusty road, returning from a pleasant early dinner at the neighbor’s home. Garak lags behind with the children who still have enough energy to bounce around him in circles as he lectures them about something, trying in vain to keep their attention. Jake looks back at them and smiles.

“How did you end up deciding to adopt Zizi? Was it pretty soon after Ragel?” Jake asks.

“Zizi came later. After Raj came to live with us, we still made occasional visits to the orphanage to try and continue Garak’s gardening lessons. It also allowed Raj to see his old friends and a caregiver he was fond of. On one visit, Ziz was there as a new arrival. She was curled up in a corner crying, screaming really. The staff was stretched thin and busy addressing the fallout from some scuffle and clearly the children were immune to the noise. I couldn’t just listen to her, she was so miserable. So, I tried to comfort her. It probably took me an hour to get her to stop crying and another to get her to stop sniffling. By the end she was nestled in my arms and I was even able to coax a smile from her here and there. Eventually she fell asleep in my lap, exhausted.

“It devastated me to leave her there. I think that day was all it took. In my heart she was already a part of my family. I visited several more times in the following weeks, but making a frequent journey of that distance just wasn’t tenable with Raj and the farm at home. I didn’t even need to say anything to Elim. I came home after a visit and sat down to talk to him thinking this would be a difficult conversation. He informed me that he had already made contact with one of the officials who had been more helpful during Raj’s adoption to get the process started for Ziz. We went back for her two days later and introduced Raj to his new sister.”

“I assume you two named her.”

“Yes, Elim did. She was three when we met her, but she was still non-verbal. She had been abandoned in a nearby town, basically left on the doorstep of one of those mobile medical units that are what passes for emergency care out here. We have no idea what her name originally was.“

“And they didn’t know where she’d come from?”

“No, sadly it’s still common for children to be abandoned and passed on to orphanages. The Cardassian taboo against extramarital procreation is still strong. And, well, it was evident at that age that Ziz was…special…in a way that might have earned her expulsion from a family even if she was legitimate.”

“Cardassians expect a lot from their children.”

Julian looks as if he was starting to say something, but walks on in silence. Jake winces as it occurs to him that Julian knows from experience the heavy expectations that humans can also put on their children. Jake changes the subject.

“And Ragel obviously already had his name.” Julian nods, “and their family name is now Garak?”

“Actually, they’re both Bashirs. Technically, legally, Elim is a Bashir now”

Jake balks and glances back at Garak, “Elim…. _Bashir_?”

Julian smiles, “I wouldn’t address him like that, but yes, he took my name when we married. If we end up…if we have to leave Cardassia, it would make things a little easier. Having the same name makes the family’s paperwork a bit more clean and avoids certain associations with the name Garak.”

“Do you think you’ll have to leave?”

“I hope not. This is our home. Elim spent a long time in exile and never wants to set foot off of the planet again. Things are stable now, but you never know. Depending on which part of which government you ask, my husband is a war criminal.”

“Does it bother you? His legal status or, you know, the things he did?”

“Look, Jake. I know better than anyone. He is a different man now. I know there are things…“ Bashir pauses and glances at Jake’s Padd, ever at his side. “Well, it’s best not to talk about it. For now, we have every reason to believe that we will live out our lives here. Together.”

—--

It’s the hands that draw Julian’s focus sometimes. Those hands that have taken who knows how many lives. The hands that have tortured and killed in the name of the Order, the Alpha Quadrant, the Federation and (probably most often) simple self preservation. He thinks about it some nights when they go to bed. His husband isn’t gentle with him. He isn’t violent either, exactly. Usually, he starts off tenderly. He likes to drape the younger man on his side at the edge of the of the bed with a leg tucked up, his own feet on the floor, giving him access to run his hands over the slim chest, stroke Julian’s cock and lean over to kiss his mouth and neck. It’s near the end when he gets close that he seems to fade from the room, eyes closed or with a wild look that reminds Bashir of seeing him in combat.

His thrusts become forceful and Julian will grab the edge of the mattress to keep himself in place. He doesn’t feel it at the time, but he often finds dark bruises on his hips the next day where the strong hands gripped him. He doesn’t object. He is probably responsible in part for spurring this on with the noises that escape his mouth and the evidence of his own physical response, the damp stain from his climax spreading over the bed after. He sometimes thinks, during these lovemaking sessions, of the violence those hands are capable of. Julian has the sense that his partner is not quite present in these moments, although Julian never loses his sense of place and who he is with. Not for a moment. He looks to his husband’s face even in the dark when there is little to see and so often speaks his name (“Elim…my Elim”) that he is no longer aware he is doing it. Afterwards, his husband becomes tender. Garak touches his body with palpable reverence, running his hands through the sweat that coats Julian’s smooth skin and placing soft kisses at the back of his neck, along his jaw or to his forehead.

The other times when Julian’s attention is drawn to those hands are when he sees Garak with the children or sometimes as Garak tends the garden plants. In those soft moments Julian watches his husband brush out their daughter’s hair or steady their son on a ladder while he walks him through inspecting the bark on a member of their small orchard. Julian feels an urge to somehow counter the brutal history of those hands. Garak was initially confused by this habit his husband has of weaving slim fingers between Garak’s, Julians’s palm to the back of his hand, turning to expose Garak’s palm. Julian would lay a gentle kiss in the middle, sometimes moving on to brush his lips over the fingers before letting go and moving away without a word.

Garak had dismissed it as a human gesture of affection. It was clearly not meant as foreplay.

——

Jake S. - Personal journal - Cardassia Prime day 21, Karaen day 6

I’m going to do it. The first thing when I see her I’m going to ask her. I’m sure she’ll agree. I hope she’s ready to have children right away. I know she wants them, but we never really talked about it much. It was so hard not to blurt it out when I finally got through on subspace from the public communications center. I was so excited just to see her face. The connection was bad, though, and it’s really something that should be done in person. This is my last day on Cardassia Prime and I should be back with her in just a few days. It’s funny, a week ago I couldn’t think of anything but finishing out this article and how it would be received, and now it’s barely even on my mind.

——

Garak’s home life is no quieter in the days after Jake leaves, just loud and chaotic in different ways. He has managed to settle the children in for the morning with a family that is hosting the community activities today. Julian had stayed behind, claiming that he needed the down time to catch up on some research. Garak smiles when he returns home to find Julian sleeping on the couch with a book propped open on his chest.

Garak retreats back outside, closing the door gently behind him. He retrieves a couple of light hand tools from his shed and kneels in front of his orchids, working carefully around them to clear the soil of unwanted sprouts. This is the one plant that Garak puts effort and water toward that isn’t for food. Julian knows better than to touch them or try to help with them, and the kids know better than to go near them. He is lost in his work and is startled when he hears footsteps close by on the stone path behind him.

_You’re getting soft, Garak._ He tells himself.

He turns to see Deles approaching and smiles to welcome him.

“Is Julian around?”

Garak nods and stands quickly, noting the serious look on his friend’s face.

“Is everything alright?”

“I just came from town. Apparently some Starfleet admiral has been causing a lot of irritation trying to get a message through to him.”

“My husband isn’t Starfleet. They have no business with him.”

Deles turns his palms up in a helpless gesture.

A few minutes later, Julian is awake and walking down the road towards town.

Garak watches him go and tries to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He returns his attention to his flower bed. He has about an hour before he needs to go retrieve the children and serve them lunch.

 

—————

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading - the supportive comments have really been appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that the format isn't confusing. The story was originally going to be a rough draft of an article Jake was writing with notes to the editor and such, but it turned in to something else. 
> 
>  
> 
> I should have the rest of this story up soon. There's not much plot in it, but future series parts should have more going on.


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